


Colliding Energy

by Shintarou



Category: Post CA:TWS - Fandom, Robbie amell - Fandom, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, Winter Soldier - Fandom, hydra - Fandom, shield - Fandom
Genre: Hydra, M/M, Post CA: TWS, SHIELD, The Winter Soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3693848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shintarou/pseuds/Shintarou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm more than you know<br/>I'm more than you see here<br/>More than you let me be<br/>I'm more than you know<br/>A body and a soul<br/>You don't see me but you will<br/>I am not invisible</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> •May include abusive language and actions  
> •Full English  
> •Original Start: 23•07•2014  
> •Start on this site: 06•04•2015  
> •Soundtrack: Invisible by U2  
> • Written by Silverton

# 000 • Nigel Sebastian O'Shay

FC: Robbie Amell

 

Name:  
Nigel Sebastian O'Shay  
• Nigel: Champion • English  
• Sebastian: The adored • Latin  
• O'Shay: Gift • Celtic

Age:  
25, 27th of June

Personality:  
Nigel has been alone for a long time, not really being social with other people. This made him feel invisible and deserted, even when his colleagues or classmates were trying to get in his head, or become friends with Nigel, he just pushed them away. Confused and scared he became more introverted, and his only 'real' company was his cat named 'Esquecimento' which means 'Oblivion' in Portuguese. With this attitude he got himself the reputation as outcast and he learned to live ignored by other people. When you ask about him at work or inform yourself by talking to his old classmates, they will describe him as a grim, mysterious and sometimes handsome if you would ask girls.  
Because of this lonely life, nobody gets to see the real Nigel. Nobody knows he is actually a sweet guy, who cares for others and their safety, willing to take a bullet, even if they wouldn't. He is a determined guy and knows what he wants, and does whatever it takes to get to his purpose. Nigel also is a hothead, but that's because of his Intermittent explosive disorder. So you'd rather not make him angry. Nigel also likes to test his limits, to see how far he can go before he faces the consequences. His impulsiveness is a trigger to this events, and he mostly decides to do it without any way of planning it. He is also a brave young man who never says no to an adventure or mission. Nigel also has one obsession: to find his lost memories.

Hobby's:  
Nigel likes to go to the gym and do some boxing because it lets him feel discharged and helps him control his anger issues. He also likes photographing and playing the piano, those two give him a feeling of balance in his life and help him 'cool down' after a hectic day. His motorcycle is his passion, like his girlfriend that would not leave him when he's mad or when he has a bad time.

Work:  
Nigel works at a local newspaper as a photographer.

Motto:  
"Sanity sometimes means madness."

Favorite quote:  
"I'm more than you see here." • U2


	2. 001 • Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Instruments of life can become instruments of mass destruction."

_ _

_I open my eyes and still all I can see is darkness surrounding me. Scared and freaking out in silence, I try to find an exit out of this... Yeah, what is it actually? I get myself standing, not realising that my balance is not working like it should. Which means I fall down again, face first. In like two seconds of complete despair, I just lay down. Not craving to move one little piece of my body, I just stay focused on te floor. Both my hands lie flat on the surface, palms facing down, like they were caressing it with one gentle touch. Another feeling. I shiver and it feels like it flows through my veins, pure energy, electricity, light and sound, vibrating like the strings on a piano when the hammer touches them. But what comes next?  
Nigel Sebastian O'Shay, sixteen, born on a rainy day in June, the 27th day to be exact... Nothing. My mind is empty, no more memories, only that and this one sentence: Instruments of life can become instruments of mass destruction. I don't know what it means, but I know it's important because it's there. And besides that there's nothing, why is there nothing? Searching around the black hole in my mind, prudent but determined to find something, I try to find something that just feels like a memory. But all I can find is the black hole, luring me to fall in._  
  
Four years have passed now after I woke up in that empty, deserted building. I remember thinking it would fit in a horror movie by the way it looked. I recall the thought  _'What is this'_  popping up in my mind. That was  _after_  the scary moment of waking up, but  _before_  I did some scary stuff myself, you will see later on. So my name is Nigel, but most people actually call me by my second name, if they address me at all, Sebastian. I don't know why they do it, but I just let them do whatever they want. I'd rather not get angry because of a little fight, especially with the consequences I would have to bare. The pure rage and the need to make something suffer my disgrace is a feeling that I want in my absolute control. I didn't have a blackout out of rage for two years, and I'm planning on adding some years to that, applause for me. Yeah, I am kinda the king of sarcasm, Yippee ki-yay, motherfuckers.  
Anyway, I've been dealing with a lot lately, dealing with my identity for example. For four years, I've been trying to get into my past, to explore who I used to be, but all I can find is nothing. No school knew who I was, no criminal record. I had a name and a blank page of emptiness. After a while I tempered my obsession, bought a flat in Brooklyn, got myself a cat as company and purchased a motorcycle. As life passed by I notice some strange things around me, lamps switching on when I just touch them, or just getting brighter. I must say, I thought I was going mad, which would be no surprise in my condition. No, really, I am emotionally unstable. I try to control it, and now that I'm older it works, but imagine a teenager, age sixteen, I.E.D, burning with rage. Yeah, you could say that it is a bad combination. I learned a lot, that I can do things no other human can do, that I know things I even didn't notice in that dark shack.  
My senses are developed to notice all the tiny changes in my surroundings. My instinct to survive is extraordinarily active, I see escapes in an instant. And despite the fact that I have no memory of anything I can function normally, like I didn't lose sixteen years.  
  
Summarized: My name is Nigel Sebastian O'shay, I'm twenty now and I live in a flat in Brooklyn, not knowing that there were others like me. Slightly different, but yet all the same. Not keeping in mind that there are other strong humans around here, called mutants, super soldiers, heroes... My fate is not being a hero, but if there is one thing a movie taught me, it is that there is no fate, but only what we make for ourselves. And that is what I'm gonna do, I am gonna write my own story on that blank page with my name on top. And when people are done reading it, they will say: "We should've called him a hero, instead we called him an outcast, not realizing it was his fuel to go on."


	3. 002 • Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Walking time bombs don't always explode."

I wake up to the first tones of Nirvana's 'Rape me' and the sounds settle into my head until I go bonkers from the noise. I get the urge to throw the smartphone against the wall, but I can hold myself back and hit the snooze button. Also known as the little red box on your iPhone that you want to hit, but can't hit because you are too drowsy to aim for it. I mostly miss it in the morning honestly, and that's weird, but I think even the best humans have some issues in the morning. Mine is missing the snooze button and as a result I'm Mister Grumpy in the morning. Five AM. I swing my legs over the border of my bed and I stretch myself out like a cat that just woke up. Speaking of cats, I feel a big paw against my leg, almost pushing me over. I smile and give the owner of the paw a stroke on the head. His name is Esquecimento, but I mostly call him 'E' or 'Mentos'. I think my neighbours would go crazy if I would call him by his full name all the time.  
"Hey, big guy, time for food? I don't get it. You eat all the time, how can you not be as fat as Garfield?" I speak to him like he is human, like he is my roommate or something. Mentos has a slim body, which is weird because he eats tons of food a day, but huge paws. It's like the food goes to his paws instead of his belly, the crazy cat. By the time I get to the kitchen, still a bit overcome with sleep, he's already sitting on the counter like he knows my morning routine. When I don't give him food before I go to the bathroom, he just sits in front of the door and mews till I come out to give him his food first. I once tried to ignore him. Bad plan, he just started to make more noise, the spoiled little bastard. I rummage in the cupboard under the counter to find his food. Curious of what I'm doing, he tries to push his furry head under my arm. "You know," I start my lecture to the animal. "This behaviour is not going to help you get your food faster, E. On the contrary." I push him away before he can jump into the closet. That's how I lost him one day. He sneaked into the cupboard and without watching I closed the door. I searched for him for like four hours. I even went outside. When I returned he just sat on the couch, watching me with his grumpy face, like he wanted to say,  _'Where is my food worthless human? AND PET ME!'_  
After finding his food, I get myself to bathroom and clean myself up. I take a shower, shave the annoying hair that men grow every day off my face and go on a quest for proper clothes. I end up in my cosy Levi's jeans and a singlet with a shirt over it and my comfortable Supra's. I check my phone. It's a quarter after five AM, so that gives me fifteen minutes to eat and get myself ready for work. I run to the kitchen and grab some raspberries which I throw in a bowl. After that I fetch myself the yogurt and a glass of water. I pour the yogurt on my fruit, like I always do. I walk to the corridor, making a successful attempt to find my keys. I always lose them somewhere in my flat. Today they were hiding in E's basket. I wonder how they got there. By the time I get back to the kitchen, it's almost half past five. Time is ticking away fast. I get my ass to the hallway, leaving the dirty bowl on the counter, which is probably a bad idea with E around. I go to the place where I keep my jackets. It's next to a little closet. The leather motorcycle jacket lies in the middle of the floor, with Mentos on it. I sigh and put my hands on my hips in a ladylike manner.  
"Esquecimento, I know you love me, but get your lazy ass off my favorite jacket," I say in a severe way to my cat. The cat in question makes an indignant sound and walks away, tail aloft. I shake my head over this action of my crazy, but oh so adorable cat. I put on my jacket and exit my appartement. I close the door behind me and head to the garage.  
  
Honestly, if you came here for the first time you would get lost in the basement. There are so many doors in it that look exactly the frigging same. You would stress out for less then this, believe me. Every single door leads to another set of doors you can try to see if it's the right one. Lucky for me, there are no doors on my path. The only thing I have to open is my garage. When it opens I find my Ducati, as black as the night itself, and my helmet, the same color. I put the engine on and it roars like a hungry lion, the sound echoing against the walls of the cellar. I drive out of the box and close it behind me. My ride out of the building happens smoothly and before I know it I'm on my way to work. Backpack with camera on my back, which is pure logic because it's a BACKpack. A couple kilometers and twenty-five minutes later I reach the seventh floor of the building. On the facade it says NYN, which stands for New York Newsbreak. While I walk, I open my jacket and get my ass to my colleague. She is waiting for me already, a little nervous, and she immediately beckons me to her office. My god, I'm glad I have this afternoon off. 


	4. 003 • Undesirable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains spoilers (Captain America: The Winter Soldier)
> 
> "Bad timing is timing as well."

I am counting down the seconds to go home, really. The other reporter isn’t in a good mood today, and not because of me. You can almost see the dark clouds above her head and the storm developing. No fun to be around, that’s for sure. I could say the wind did not come from the south, definitely north. When the clock's hands point at one o’clock PM, I take my backpack with my camera and my helmet, before heading out to the garage. My Ducati is still parked where I left it, unmoved. It looks like it is immovable and one with the stone walls. Those walls are a home for an immense amount of dark shadows because of the dim light that shines in all places that are not above the ground. Irritated by my surroundings, the trapped feeling I get here is not very comfortable. I get my bike and get to the surface. I take a deep breath – yes, I do that – and the pesky feeling I had before falls off my shoulders.  
  
I set off and move onto the highway as soon as possible. I know there is no traffic, so I can drive home calmly. When I take an exit and move more towards the smaller roads, I see people running in my direction in the middle of the street. This grabs my attention. Something is wrong. And as stupid as the next thing sounds: I want to know what it is. I drive a little further when I see the first wrecked car. If I wasn’t wearing my helmet, I would lift my eyebrow. Since I am, I get off my bike and leave my crash helmet with the vehicle. I run in the opposite direction as the people who scream out of fear and panic. Curious about what is going on, I bump into a female body.  
"Get back!" she screams in my ear. Her face shows me an irritated expression. I shake my head and get up. I offer her my hand, but she slaps it away quite hard. "Why aren't you running?" she asks angrily. I shrug and look her straight in the eye.  
"I ain't scared, so I'm not running away in panic. Logic, I guess." She looks at like I've gone mad. It is amusing, since my sanity is negotiable. Sometimes I think I've gone mad, sometimes I just feel normal. But the woman over there thinks I'm crazy, judging by her facial expression.  
"You're gonna get hurt," she says, trying to convince me to turn back. But all I say is: "Nah." And I keep on walking.  
"The place is a mess," I mutter. I see a bus lying on its side and a lot of burning cars of which most lie upside down. I hear someone shooting and I follow the sound. The bullet was meant for the woman I just talked to. She stumbles a bit forward and ducks behind a car. I scan my surroundings and see a man in a dark suit and with a machine gun in his hands. His face is hidden under a black mask, but you can see his dark eyes and, for a man, long brown hair. Another man comes running onto the battleground that actually exists out of four people, including me doing nothing so far. The man who just showed up charges at the one with the metal arm, who rams against blondies' shield. I watch them fighting like it's a hell of a difficult choreo, with a violent touch. There is one thing I know for sure. Blondie needs his shield. The cyborg keeps finding weapons strapped to his body, a huge disadvantage for blondie. Then the man in black gets hold of the shield. This scene is something that looks weird, yet so familiar. Like the man in black had used the shield before and knew what it could do. After a second to breathe the fighting starts again. I lay my hand against a car and a shiver flows through my spine. The electricity of its battery flows into my body and forms a force field around me. I stand up and I concentrate on the guy's bionic arm. For a second I can shut it off. After that I'm too far away, but for blondie that's a saving moment and he kicks the guy into a car. The fight continues till the normally dressed guy gets his shield back and the fight turns to his advantage. He flips the cyborg over and his mask falls off. The guy in black turns around and blondie gets a look of recognition on his face.  
"Bucky?" is the only thing he says, his face slightly marked with pain and disbelief. The dark look on the other one's face tells me that the recognition is not mutual.  
"Who the hell is Bucky?" he asks in a cold voice, spitting Bucky out like the name is made of acid. Then another person comes flying in – honestly, that is the weirdest thing that I've seen today – and pushes him aside, while the woman from earlier shoots a little rocket to the cyborg. She misses. On purpose? I don't know. I jump before her in case somebody gets the idea to shoot at her. She looks at me with her big eyes, like she knows what I am doing and what I am.  
"Are you crazy?" she whispers a little angrily at me. I snigger and shrug.  
"Might as well be, but I'm not stupid." I grin at her and she rolls her eyes. I lift an eyebrow in a sarcastic way and hear sirens around me. Police. I look puzzledly at the lady and I can see the concern on her face. In a blink of an eye we are surrounded by a kind of S.W.A.T. team. My force field starts fading till it's gone and guns are pushed under our noses. "Great, there goes my afternoon off," I mutter sarcasticly and put my hands on my head. 


End file.
